


Last Call

by Ballades



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Face-Sitting, Insemination, Oral Sex, Pregnancy Kink, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 07:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ballades/pseuds/Ballades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for digitalgoddess as a combination extremely belated birthday gift/request/cheer-up fic/OC Kiss Week/100 subscribers celebration. </p>
<p>It's been a bit of a ride, but it's finally the end for Taka and Nirah.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Last Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [digitalgoddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digitalgoddess/gifts).



> Written for digitalgoddess as a combination extremely belated birthday gift/request/cheer-up fic/OC Kiss Week/100 subscribers celebration. 
> 
> It's been a bit of a ride, but it's finally the end for Taka and Nirah.

_I didn’t have to come._

Taka cranes his neck back to stare up at Skyhold’s walls as his horse ambles over the bridge.  The castle is as it always is, rooted fast to the mountains, the foundations of it sturdy and untouched by time.  In the last two years the changes have been mostly cosmetic, and when he passes beneath the portcullis into the main courtyard he waves at the sentries, immerses himself in the familiar low hubbub of bustling people.

He dismounts and leads his horse to the stables where stable hands are busy pitching hay, plumed breaths venting white in the crisp fall air.  Autumn has reached out and touched the Frostbacks, changing the leaves into vivid reds and oranges, turning the forest the color of fire.  Taka has visited Skyhold enough to know that fall comes and goes in the blink of an eye, and soon the mountains will mourn the passing of the season, the wind howling past bare branches and abandoned bird nests.

There is, in his opinion, something rather alluring about the Frostbacks in winter.  Even though it gets bitterly cold, Taka likes the peace of fresh snow on the mountain.  He’ll miss it this year most likely, though from the smell of things there’s a chance for an early storm.  He pauses for a moment to look up at the sky, clear blue, without a trace of a cloud.   _Ah well_ , he thinks.   _I didn’t think I had the time anyway._

_Anyway, anyway,_ the Taint croons back to him, an echo in his blood.  Shadow tints the edges of his vision for a heartbeat.  Taka squeezes his eyes shut and stands still until the vertigo passes.

“Warden Taka,” Master Dennet says, bowing when Taka enters.  “Well met.”

“Well met to you, Master Dennet,” Taka greets him, smiling.  He hands over his horse’s reins, pats her fondly on the neck.  “How have you been?”

“I’ve been,” the stablemaster says gruffly.  “Surprised to see you so soon, ser.  Where is Warden Carver?”

Taka keeps his smile cheerful.  “We separated on the Imperial Road past Jader.  I will be meeting him in Orzammar within a fortnight.”

“Orzammar?”

“Warden business.”  Taka sticks out his hand for Dennet to shake.  “He’s escorting me to the gates.”

Dennet takes Taka’s hand, his grip firm, his expression growing solemn.  He bows over their joined hands.  “It’s…it’s been an honor, ser.”

“Thank you,” Taka replies.  “You as well.  Don’t be so serious!  I’m meeting some friends down there.”

Dennet clears his throat.  “Having a party, are you?”

Taka claps Dennet on the back, grinning.  “The very last one.  Is she expecting me?”

“I suppose,” Dennet says, and Taka turns towards the kitchen stairs.  Behind him, Master Dennet bows again.

Taka snags a fresh hand pie from the kitchens and blows on it, making his way towards the Great Hall.  He isn’t particularly hungry though he’s spent a good part of the day traveling, but he does still like the taste of food, and eating will keep the Taint from progressing.  Or so he hopes, he thinks, taking a cautious bite.

He greets those people he knows as he passes through the hall.  At this part of the day Nirah should still be handling paperwork, so Taka goes to Josephine’s door and knocks, wolfing down the rest of the hand pie.  Two voices respond.

Taka calls through the door.  “Your Worship, it’s your favorite helper!”

He laughs to himself as he hears a chair scraping against the stones, the scramble of her feet.  Nirah throws the door open as wide as her smile, and Taka returns it as he takes in the sight of her.  She’s always beautiful despite being somewhat careworn around her brilliant blue eyes; she has suffered much in the last few years, and it gives Taka no pleasure knowing that she will be suffering more.  Only for a little while, though.

“Taka!”  She enfolds him into a hug, surprising him with the open display.  “Perfect timing.  Josie and I have plenty for you to do.”

He bows to Josephine, whose dark eyes narrow over the quill she’s tapping against her mouth.  Likely she suspects something, Taka thinks, but that is to be expected with her ability to see disparate events as connected.  “I am, as always, at your service, your Worship,” Taka says, adding an extra flourish as he bows to Nirah.

“I didn’t expect you to arrive so soon,” Nirah says, ushering him into the room, closing the door behind him.  “I’m sorry to make you wait while we finish our business.  Have you eaten?  Will you have some tea?”

He nods.  “Tea would be lovely, thank you.”  

Josephine catches his gaze as Nirah turns towards the fire and hangs a pot over it.  Taka shakes his head slightly, an apologetic smile curling his lips, and she sighs.

“If you would be so kind to read these treatises over and summarize them for us,” she says, her accent trilling through her words.  “Expediting the work will allow us all to finish sooner.”

“Yes, Lady Ambassador,” Taka says just as Josie sighs again, glancing at Nirah.

_I didn’t have to come_ , Taka thinks, and the Taint surges within him, dissonant and jangling, a thousand voices urging him to find the archdemon.  He ignores it and takes the document Josie sets down.   _But I’m here.  Figures that I’d only turn responsible at the end._

* * *

“Come,” Taka says to Nirah, taking her hand in his.  “Watch the sunset with me.”

Nirah’s eyes go round with surprise.  “Did I hear you correctly?  Watch the sunset with you?  I thought you didn’t get sentimental, Taka.”

Taka stands and takes her other hand, then leans back, using his weight as a counterbalance to leverage her to her feet.  He tows her towards one of the balconies in her quarters.  “I don’t, usually.  You’ll have to pardon my lapse this one time.  I assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Is that a promise, Takaleth?” Nirah asks him playfully, settling her elbows next to his on the railing.  She bumps him with her shoulder.

“Indeed, your Worship, it is.  I can absolutely guarantee it will never happen again.”  That’s a lie, of course.  The entire trip is a sentimental one.  There was no need for him to come; everyone already knew what burden lay on a Warden’s shoulders.  Eventually his absences would be noted, and no explanation would be necessary.

“You’re quite certain?”  Nirah lays her head against him, and the motion is like a building wave, sadness rising from his chest.  “A pity.  I rather like this.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he means it.  “As it is a rare occurrence, I will do my best to remember every minute.”

“You’re acting strangely,” Nirah says, shuffling closer until they touch from shoulder to wrist.

“Hush,” he tells her.  “Don’t spoil the moment by thinking.”

Nirah laughs, but says nothing more as they watch the sun dip below the majestically snowcapped mountains.  “I’m getting cold,” Nirah declares once watercolor washes of navy claim the sky.  “Shall we go in?”

“Yes, let’s.”  Taka follows her inside and stands next to the fire, then hauls a log off the wood pile and arranges it on the flames.  For a minute he warms himself, considering his next move.  Then he chides himself, because there is no long play.  The endgame has arrived, and he is just delaying it.

“Nirah,” he says, serious.  Her head comes up sharply as she looks at him, surprised once again at his tone, how her name sounds bare, unadorned.  “Might I ask you a favor?”

“Yes,” she says, elongating the vowel.  “Of course, Taka.  Anything.”

He elects not to make a lighthearted quip.  Before, he would have teased her about the _anything_.  Tonight, however…

“Would you draw a bath for me, and put in whatever oils and scents you think would be calming and relaxing?”

She blinks.  “Certainly.  You do look tired.  You want to bathe here?”

A small smile.  “Is there a larger tub anywhere in Skyhold?”

“Point.”  She spins on her foot and goes to the washroom.  “Just a minute.”

Taka waits as the tub fills, stripping down to his tunic and breeches.  He lays his armor on the couch, smiling to himself as he remembers the last time he was on it, then pokes his head into the washroom.  “Ready?”

Nirah glances at him, her hand submerged in water.  Steam rises off its surface, carrying with it scents of citrus and mint.  “Come in.”

He busies himself with finding a washcloth and soaking it, cleaning off his face and neck.  The ewer has flowers floating in it, as well as some other green things.  It smells nice, even if it isn’t his preference.  Even so, it’s better than sweat and dirty leather.

“What’s this?” Nirah says, amused.  “Keeping your clothes on?”

“Just following our agreement, your Worship.”  Taka’s mouth quirks into a lopsided smile.  “Friends respect other friends’ privacy and decency.”

“Very well,” she sighs.  “I’ll wait outside.”

“Thank you.”  He shuts the door, then proceeds to strip off the rest of his clothing and give himself a thorough sponge bath.  No use in getting the bathwater filthy, after all.  When he’s satisfied with his cleanliness, he folds himself into the tub, exhaling loudly as the heat takes hold of him.  “Maker,” Taka mutters, relaxing against the side of the tub.  “This is sinful.”  He closes his eyes.

Only to open them again some time later when Nirah knocks.  “Taka?” she says through the door.  “Can I come in?”

He blinks away the chorus of sleep, then lifts a hand to see how wrinkled his skin has gotten.  “Sure,” he responds after a moment.  “The water’s getting cold, and I could use a refresh.”

She enters cautiously.  “Hey,” Taka says.  “Don’t even think of trying to peek.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Nirah says without malice.

“Whyever not?” Taka replies, sighing like an old dog as Nirah’s spell reheats the water.  “If I don’t, who will?”  Especially now, when the Taint is consuming more of him, changing the previously robust condition of his body.  If Taka can’t be vain then he might as well be dead.  And he isn’t dead just yet.

“Taka,” Nirah chides him.  “You’re deflecting me.”

“That would only be true if I knew there was something to deflect.”  Taka raises an eyebrow.  “Is there?”

“You tell me, Takaleth.”  Nirah kneels next to the tub and lays her forearms along the edge.

“You’re using my full name.”

“Yes, I am.”

“It means I’m in trouble.”  Taka does his best puppy-eyed impression.  “I’ve been a good Warden, I swear it by the Maker and Andraste herself.”

“Oh, stop it,” Nirah says, exasperated.  “You’ve been acting strangely.  You’re here on short notice, which you never do.  You’ve always given me plenty of warning.  You asked to watch a sunset with me.  You look exhausted, and you’ve lost weight.  You’re even being serious.”

“Is that a crime now?”  Taka leans conspiratorially towards her.  “Care to judge me for being serious?”

She flicks water into his face; Taka flinches.  He isn’t sorry to see Nirah’s sleeve darken with splatter.  “I’m trying to find out what’s wrong.”

Taka breathes out through flared nostrils.  “Nothing.  I came for a quick visit, is all.  I had heard someone special to you was returning, and thought perhaps I should get my chance in before - “

“Where’s Carver?” Nirah interrupts him.

“I’m sure he’s drinking in the tavern.”  The lie comes easy when it’s couched in truth.  Carver is likely in a tavern in Orzammar somewhere, fortifying himself with mushroom beer.

“Not good enough.”  Nirah presses him again.  “Where’s Carver?”

Taka tries to parry.  “Since when are you so concerned with Carver?”

“Not answering only makes me more suspicious, Takaleth.  I’ll ask you again.  Where is Carver?  And don’t you dare think of lying to me.”  She fixes him with piercing eyes.

Taka lets his head fall back against the rim of the tub, then stares listlessly up at the ceiling.  “I answered.  You just found it unsatisfactory.”

“No games, Taka.  For the last time, where is Carver?”

Taka takes two breaths, three, four.  The words roll reluctant off his tongue.  “He’s in Orzammar.”

Nirah gasps.  “Is it his time already?”

“No,” Taka says, subdued.  He can’t meet her eyes, not with the Taint darkening his.  “He’s just waiting.  Rith has already gone down.”

He can feel her trembling in the inches of air that separate them.  “Taka,” Nirah whispers.  “Is it yours?”

Taka swallows, then clears his throat, swallows again.  “Yeah,” he admits.  “It is.”

Nirah moves suddenly, slapping her hand against the water, spraying it into his face.  She lurches to her feet, hands balled into fists, and exits the washroom, slamming the door behind her.

His calm ruined, Taka levers himself out of the bathtub, finds a towel, and dries off.  Briefly, he debates putting his clothes back on, but instead wraps the towel around his waist.  No amount of clothing or armor will protect him against Nirah’s emotions.

As if on cue, the door is wrenched open.

“Nirah,” he begins.  “I - “

“Were you going to tell me?” she practically shouts at him, face reddening, tears already welling in her eyes.  Taka curses himself for making her cry.  “Or were you just going to leave?”

“I didn’t want things to be complicated.”  He looks away.  “I’ve heard Barris is coming back.  I don’t want to be in the way of that, as your friend.  I thought it would be cleaner.”

“If you wanted it to be clean, you wouldn’t be here.”  Every line of Nirah’s body is taut with her anger.  “Answer me, Taka.  Were you planning on telling me?”

He stares at her, locks her vitality and spirit down in his memory.  “Eventually.  Yes.  I would close this out.”

“Close this out,” she repeats.  “That’s it?  Nice and neat, like it’s the end of a book?  You were just going to pretend you’re the way you usually are, tell me you’re ready to die, and then check it off the list?  I always knew you were cold-hearted, but that’s too much even for you.”

Maker help, he can hardly breathe for the knot in his chest.  Getting attached to her had been the worst thing.  “You can stop yelling at me now,” he says through gritted teeth.  “Clearly I am more compromised than you think, as I am here in only a towel, allowing you to berate me.”

“You, compromised?”  Nirah throws the word at him like it’s a brick and he a window she hopes to shatter.  “They’re called feelings, Taka.  Did you think I had none for you that you could do this without affecting me?”

_Shit_ , Taka thinks, _fuck, shit, I shouldn’t have come_.  “I’ll be honest with you.”

“Truly a miracle,” Nirah says nastily.

Taka pauses.  “All right, fine.  I wanted it to be clean so that nothing would get in the way of your relationship with Barris.  I’m well aware of what he means to you, and what it means for him to come back.  I want nothing lingering, Nirah.  But you keep pushing, and it makes it harder and harder to keep my resolve.  I want to go to the Deep Roads with no regrets.  Depending on how I leave here, I might die with one.”

Nirah’s tears spill over even as she glares at him.  “You fight _dirty_.”

Taka summons up as much insouciance as he can and shrugs, then gives Nirah a roguish smile.  “Guilty as charged.”

“I can fight dirty too,” she says, leveling her pointer finger at him.  “What I said last time still stands.”

“I said I wanted this clean, Nirah!”  Taka’s own anger finally rouses itself, fueled by his inability to handle her counter.  He’d always believed fair play to be overrated, but the benefits are being illuminated harshly at present.  “It’s complicated enough.  I came to say goodbye.  I didn’t have to, but as it turns out I’ve been afflicted with a terminal case of personal responsibility, so here I am.”  Scowling, he turns his back on her to go back to the washroom.  He needs his clothes.

“Takaleth Trevelyan!” Nirah snaps, heated.  Her next words freeze his feet to the floor.  “I care for you.”

Clothes.  He needs his clothes, not this overwhelming wave of emotion.  “Don’t.”

“I care for you,” she says again.  “As more than a friend.”

“Nirah, don’t.”  If there is pleading in his tone, he won’t admit to it.

“I could have loved you, Taka,” she says next, and it breaks him.  She might as well have staked him through the chest right there.  He could have loved her too, if not for someone else.  That they are both in this situation is darkly humorous.

“I…” he begins.  “I shouldn’t have come.  I’m sorry it’s turned out this way.”  Taka wills his knees to bend, stoops unsteadily to retrieve his tunic and breeches.  “Goodbye, Nirah.  I’ll see myself out.”

She hisses.  “Coward.”

He whips himself around, incensed.  “What?”

“Coward.  Coward!”  Nirah stalks forward a step, barricading him in the washroom, bracing her hands against the doorframe.  “You wanted no regrets?  Then say goodbye to me the way you should.”  Tears drip off the point of her chin.  “Go to the Deep Roads knowing you did it right.”

Taka recoils, shaken.  “Nirah, you…”

“Kiss me,” she challenges him.  “Leave nothing behind.  I’ll let us have this one night to be honest with each other.  Show me how you feel.”

He stares at her for so long that she moves first, putting herself in front of him, her jaw at a defiant angle.  Taka has never been confronted so directly about his feelings, and even though he knows that there is nothing to lose, he is still afraid of expressing them.

Afraid.  He’s known the truth of it for a while, the reason why he refuses to form lasting attachments.  There’s nothing to be had loving a dead man, and there’s nothing but heartbreak for falling in love.  Taka has refused to do it except for Carver, but that’s different.  Carver is his partner, and Taka can trust he’ll be there until the very end.

Nirah, however.  “Show me,” she demands again, and the way Taka’s chest burns feels suspiciously like heartache.

“You may not like what you find,” Taka murmurs, his hands lifting, fingertips ghosting over her neck, thumbs applying the slightest pressure to the delicate line of her jaw.  Despite the stormclouds that hover heavy around her, she is yielding beneath his fingers.

“That’s for me to decide,” Nirah replies, her eyes drifting closed as Taka lowers his mouth to hers.

He’s hesitant.  Taka’s lips brush against hers so lightly that it barely registers as contact.  He holds himself a hairsbreadth away from Nirah, waits a few seconds before pressing his lips to hers again.  Taka has never kissed her this way before, has never given her tenderness and gentility and vulnerability.  Then again she has never allowed him to kiss her like this; Nirah has walls upon walls, a fortress to hide her real self.  They part for another second, and this time when their lips touch she blooms in his hands, her mouth opening under his, her defenses dropping away.

They kiss, and Taka tries not to think about the fact that this kind of communication is new and terrifying to him.  He fancies himself free and uncaptured, uncaged and uncageable, but there is no escaping Nirah’s arms as they twine around him, no retreat from her body as she presses against him, no way to escape the velvet eagerness of her kisses.  That’s what he’s used to doing, escaping.  Instead Nirah guides him to her bed, lays down with him, keeps him from his instincts.

Taka kisses her some more, his fingers tracing the point of her ear, carding into the smooth coolness of her hair.  Normally by now he would begin taking her clothes off, but Taka likes this, likes the connection of their mouths and the long looks that pass between them, likes the sharing of breath and an intimacy he’s never before experienced.  That she returns it is something thrilling and addictive, something to fall into so thoroughly that time becomes immaterial.

Nirah takes his hand and slips it beneath her tunic.  It seems like the most natural thing to rid her of the things that keep their skins from melding.  Taka stares at her when she is fully nude, filling his eyes with her starlit form.  Beneath her clothes Nirah has cream for skin, and though Taka is not one for vows save for the one he swore to the Wardens, tonight it is fitting that he pledge himself to every inch of her.  

He brings his lips to her neck, flicks his tongue against the spot below her earlobe that gives her goosebumps.  Nirah gasps quietly, and Taka mouths a path over the hollow of her collarbone, follows the curve formed by her shoulder.  From there he meanders over her arm to her hand, kisses each fingertip as soft and airy as the beat of butterfly wings, inks her fingerprints invisible into his lips.

At this Nirah holds her breath, her body tensing.  Taka kisses the center of her palm, then puts his mouth to the leaping pulse in her wrist.

“Don’t cry,” he says, voice low, inhaling the faint scent that lies like morning mist over lacy veins.  “Not for me.”

She does it anyway, and Taka smudges the briny tracks of her tears with his kisses.  He lies down next to her and pulls her into his embrace, folds his length around her.  For a while Nirah keeps her face turned into his chest, and every now and then her ribs expand around a loud sniffle.

“Shall I…?” Taka starts to say, intending to get up.

“No.”  Nirah erases her tears with the heel of her hand.  Taka touches his nose to hers, and the gesture seems to undo her further.  “I need this to be real tonight.  I’m not - I’m not going to forget you, or pretend you never existed.”  Nirah blows out a breath as if readying herself, then grabs a hold of his towel and flings it away.  Her palm finds a comfortable position over his cock; she strokes him with surety, her eyes unwavering on his.

“Remember how you sweet-talked me the first time?” she asks.  

How could he forget?  “You were a vision that night.”

“I’m not now, but - “

“You are.  Always.”  Taka stops her with his thumb on her lips.  There’s the smile he’s been seeking.  

“I remember what you said.  You said you wanted to taste me.  My breasts.  My nipples in your mouth.  The sweat on my body.  My cunt as you slid your fingers into me.”

Taka has to grin at that.  “Did I?  That sounds awfully dirty for a gentleman like myself.”

Nirah laughs, then sniffles again.  “You’re a cad.  I need it to be real tonight, Taka.  I want you to taste me here.”  She shifts and takes his hand, skimming the backs of his fingers over the swell of her breast.  Taka reads his cue, and Nirah moves, arching her back, pushing their linked hands against herself so that it’s easier for him to occupy his mouth.

“I’m not done,” she says after a while, ending the tension of a stillness tested by the wet sounds of him worshipping her.  Nirah’s hands are firm upon him.  She opens up a bit of space between them.  “I want you here,” she says, skimming his thumb down her center line, past the juncture of her thighs, her legs parting so that she can graze his knuckle against her.  She’s warm and inviting, more than ready, and Taka feels himself twitching on her next downstroke.

“Here too.”  The insides of her thighs, her knees.  She returns then, parting her legs more, and uses him to coat herself.  Taka folds his lips together and bites down.  

“And what I want most of all?”  Nirah frees him and dips a finger inside herself.  As Taka watches she touches it to her thumb, then rubs the two together.  She takes a hold of him again, the pad of her thumb describing lazy circles over his frenulum.  “What I want is you inside me over and over.  As many times as you can, as many times as we can manage it.  I want you, Taka, all of you until I’m full and dripping.  And then I want more.”

He groans.  “Maker.”

“I want,” Nirah continues in a whisper, “you to know the taste of us together.”

He can’t stand it anymore.  Not her words, not how she’s looking at him, not how maddeningly she’s touching him.  “Nirah,” Taka says, and she lets go of him.  He braces himself over her.

“Taka,” she responds, fitting his tip to her.  The first stretch is always so damn good.

Taka closes his eyes, and slides home long and slow.

Nirah makes a quiet sound of pleasure, her knees coming up, fingers digging into his shoulder.  She feels indescribable surrounding him, and as they adjust to each other Taka has to look away briefly to maintain the rate of his breathing.  Nirah’s kiss lands on his jaw, a miss.  Taka helps correct her, and their next kiss is right and proper, their lips slanted together, tongues meeting briefly.  Taka completes the connection by pushing himself deeply into her, holding Nirah’s moan in his mouth.

He had not thought it would be as wonderful as this, him being inside her, her body a haven.  When they flutter open Nirah’s eyes are faintly luminous, full of emotions.  If he looks at her long enough those same emotions will rise in him, answering her call.  Taka gathers himself and his courage and faces them, kisses her with his heart in his throat.

“Taka,” Nirah sighs, and for a while there are only the sounds of their mouths, the rustling of bedsheets a quiet accompaniment.  Nirah kisses him languidly on his neck and shoulder as everything phases together, the motion of his hips syncing with each of her breaths in a sensuous, sensual rhythm.

“Taka,” Nirah says between moans, holding him tightly.  “Taka, will you be able to - can you keep yourself from - “

“Go ahead,” he says, and his next thrust carries with it the power of the shifting earth.

Nirah works her hand between them, her knuckles hard pressure against his groin.  Taka gives her room and follows her lead, timing himself with each swipe of her fingers.  When she begins shaking he steels himself, resolved not to let things end here.  It’s tempting, so tempting.  Nirah moans and whimpers, grips his shoulder and shudders, her breaths slipping shallow between clenched teeth.  

The orgasm when it happens is like the sparking of a flame, going from nothing to alight and magnificent in half a second.  Nirah comes around him, Maker, she comes around him, comes rippling and wild.  Taka grows desperate with how much he’s holding on, denying himself his release.  He wants to, Andraste help him.  He wants to.

_As many times as you can,_ she had said, and that single thought is what keeps Taka from losing himself.

Nirah pulls him down for a kiss, dampened fingers light on his cheek.  “Please,” she begs him, her hand moving to his rear, fingers digging in.  She surges against him, tilts her hips up.  Her bicep bunches as she yanks him into her, and in every flex of her stomach Taka can feel her still trembling from the strength of her orgasm.  “Please,” she says again, groaning as he hits a new angle.

“Not yet,” Taka manages, his hips snapping forward.  The sound he elicits from her is nothing short of amazing, and he tries it a second time with the same results.  Nirah writhes under him, and between her tangible want and the heaven of her body it would be so easy to give in.  Ridiculously easy.  Fantastically easy to pick up the pace, grind her into the bed, stroke into her until everything tightens and releases in dizzying spurts.

But this is his last night with her, and Taka doesn’t want it to end early, isn’t ready yet to lie boneless in a heap with stars in his eyes.  He exercises his willpower and gives Nirah one last thrust, then withdraws slowly, dragging his length from her centimeter by centimeter to the sound of her agonized whine.  “No,” she whispers when he sits back on his heels, his cock warm and slick, the tip of it coming to rest beneath his navel.

“I want my mouth on you,” Taka says simply.  The words are harder to put together when she looks like this, faraway and unwound, her hair messy, her lips plump and bitten.  “Over me.  With my mouth on you.”

“Oh,” Nirah says, a smile stealing over her face as she sits up.  She pats the place beside her.

Taka lies down, shutting his eyes for a second as Nirah straddles him, the insides of her thighs close but not quite touching the sides of his head.  He kisses one wetly, rolls his tongue against the sensitive flesh, and is rewarded with the sound of Nirah’s breath catching in her throat.  He does it more enthusiastically, then more loudly, savoring the victory of Nirah’s hands clutching the headboard.  “Wider,” he instructs her when he’s had his fun, taking her hips in his hands, supporting her over his face.

The scent of her is heady and inviting, irresistable.  Taka licks into her greedily, parts her folds with his tongue, laps the taste of her into his mouth.  There’s salt and salt, a sleekness that abides.  It carries the pleasure from her to him and back again as Taka flicks the tip of his tongue against her clit, sucks on her lips.  With his tongue held flat and wide he can get all of her at once.  He does so until her breaths pile onto each other, uncontrollable; he plies her until she is teetering and weak above him, dripping into his mouth, coating his chin.

“Now?” she asks him when he helps her back onto the bed.  Aftershocks run up and down the muscles of her stomach; Taka gives her a smug look.  “Please, Taka, now?”

“A moment,” he tells her, his hand falling upon her breast.  He rolls onto his side, nuzzling her, then sucks on her, his moan muffled.  He loves this too, the stiff point of her nipple pulled into his mouth, the way she sighs when he runs the tip of his tongue around it.  Taka indulges himself, giving attention to both breasts, and when he feels himself fully hardened again he shoves his face into her chest and sighs.  

“Maker, I’m ready.  I could go just like this.”

“Taka!” Nirah scolds him, whacking his shoulder, laughing.  It delights him.

“Yes?” he replies, feeling more like himself, moving over her again.  Nirah’s knees fall open and he grinds his length against her, groaning at the sensation.

“Now?”  Her hips move.

“Now,” he says.

They don’t even have to think about it.  He is outside her, and then he isn’t.  She stretches around him as they slot together, a familiar return.  Taka coaxes the moan from her as he withdraws most of the way, then finds that incredible feeling he’s sure will get him barred from the Maker’s side.  It’s unholy, is what.  It’s heat and arousal and enough pressure to set his nerves shouting, clamoring for the end.  That’s exactly what Nirah wants, Taka knows, but he is also aware that she needs a small period of time to recover.  He can use that time wisely.  He’s contrary, after all.

“Yes, Taka, yes,” Nirah urges him.  Though she herself is not yet ready there is still an intensity in her, a gravity that brings them together again and again.  “Please, Taka, whenever you want, please.”

“I’ve,” he starts, moaning as she clenches around him.  “I’ve - I’ve changed my mind.”  Maker, he’s barely coherent.

Nirah’s eyes fly open, gleaming in the dark.  She takes her revenge with a savagery that steals his breath, brings him to the razor’s edge.  “Bastard,” she swears at him, groaning.  Taka buries himself in her deeply enough to make her grunt.  

Taka growls into her neck, digs his knees into the bed, makes it so she can’t speak for want of air.  “You,” he manages, his own breath moist as he breathes it back in.  Her chest touches his at the same time her legs wrap around his waist, and Taka knows with certainty that he’s been caught.

“You,” she accuses him, setting her teeth into his shoulder, her body relentless beneath him, picking up speed.  Taka can’t help but be towed along until he takes the lead, holding her so close he can’t tell them apart, driving into her faster and faster until she loses words and letters.  She keens vowels into his skin until her body pulls taut, quivering like a rope snapped between his hands.

And Maker, that’s it, he can’t.  There isn’t anything else.  Taka cries out, blinded under eyelids screwed shut, seeks her center as he rams himself into her, jerks and tightens and shakes as pleasure roars through him and ricochets through her.

_All of you,_ she said, _until I’m full and dripping._

Nirah has asked it of him, and he will comply.  Taka presses himself into her and does just that, gives her all of him until she’s filled up, empties himself inside her so that she will be overflowing when he pulls out.  For long moments Taka is rendered immobile by blissful reverberations; they chime through him like bells, overpowering the Taint.  

Nirah waits, taking his weight.  Finally, Taka lifts his head and opens his eyes.

“And then I want more,” Nirah whispers, her gaze steady, her smile affectionate.  Taka kisses her, feels for himself the edge of her vast hunger.

* * *

The lines of Nirah’s neck are things of beauty, and Taka can’t help but kiss them as her head falls back against the lip of the tub.  He kisses her forehead too, and then the tip of her nose, beams at her as she giggles softly.  Taka straightens, passing through a ray of midday sunlight so strong he could hold it in his hand.

“I could use another one of those too,” he tells Nirah, turning briefly to stretch.  He hears water slosh; Nirah cracks her palm across his asscheek.  “Hey!” he protests, wincing at sore muscles.  “What was that for?”

“I’d invite you in, but you’re too tall.”  She returns her arm to the water.

“Tell the truth,” he chides her, ignoring the babbling surge of the Taint.  “You’re afraid we might try something else.”

She snorts loudly, the sound bouncing off the surface of the water.  “You overestimate yourself,” she says.

“Ah,” Taka says, then nods sagely.  “You’re probably right.”  She is absolutely right, no doubt about it.  They had woken at dawn for a second session, and Taka is sure that there isn’t a surface within ten feet of the bed that they haven’t used.  The wall of course, and then the floor once there were cramps; the foot of the bed with the expanse of her back stretching away from him, her hips pulled smartly against his; the plush chair with the convenient armrests so Nirah could clutch them as he drank her down, fingers inside her.

She glances sidelong at him; he offers up his trademark cheeky smile.  Nirah snorts again, but suddenly her face falls.  Concerned, Taka asks, “What’s wrong?”

“How can you ask me that?” she whispers.

“I - “ he starts, then shuts his mouth.  Self-awareness isn’t something he lacks.  “I’m…sorry.  For what it’s worth.”

“You can’t stay a little longer?”  He catches the hint of despair in her tone.

Taka sighs, then picks up the shirt he’d discarded the night prior.  “It isn’t that I can’t, though eventually I would need to go, or you would need to put me out of my misery.  That isn’t something I want you to experience.”  He puts his shirt on, fixes the laces.  “And someone is coming back to you soon.  You should prepare yourself.”

“He doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Nirah, stop.  This doesn’t exist anymore.  Things end here.  I’ve had fifteen years of being a warden.  Nearing twenty, if truth be told.  You’ve been a bright spot, and I came to thank you and tell you how much I appreciated you.”  There are no tears even as he speaks openly.  Taka must chain his heart; the rest of it belongs to Carver.

Nirah begins crying again.

It’s useless telling her not to do it.  Taka retrieves the rest of his clothing and grants Nirah the privacy to collect herself.  He dresses himself, makes sure everything is placed correctly so that there will be no chafing when the armor is strapped on.

Nirah exits the washroom as he’s tucking his gloves into his belt and straightening his tabard; she is dressed for the day.  They stare at each other for a minute, and Taka senses the change, can tell the precise moment he switches from being just Taka to Senior Warden Takaleth Trevelyan.  Sunlight flashes blinding off the gryphon on his chest.

“It’s not an end until you’re dead, Taka.”  Nirah moves with purpose, striding to her desk, opening a lower drawer.  “I can’t go with you, but you can take some of me with you.”

She goes to him and takes his hand, spreads his fingers, places something hard and smooth into his palm.  Taka blinks at it, then her.  It’s a crystal.

“My first focus.  From my first staff.  I want you to have it.  Just keep it on you when you go to the Deep Roads.  Tell Carver to leave it with your body.”  Her composure cracks, and she gasps, pressing her hand to her mouth.

“Thank you,” Taka says softly, opening his belt pouch, nestling the crystal inside.  He says nothing else, knowing his thoughts will upset her.  They are not in love, and he does not need a lover’s token to carry into death.  When he dies, Taka wants the last person on his mind to be Carver.  He’ll have to tell Carver to take the crystal and send it back.  With a pretty ribbon.

“Shall we get some breakfast?”  Taka squints at the sky, spackled with icy clouds.  “Or lunch.  Afternoon snack.”

Nirah uses her wrist to rub at her eyes.  “Can you just…stay another night?  Aren’t you tired?”

He kisses her forehead gently, gifts her one last truth.  “No.  Not in the way that can be cured by sleep.”

She breaks down then, slamming her fist into his breastplate over and over.   _No crying,_ Taka reminds himself.   _No crying._

“Fine,” Nirah says finally, her hand opening and closing, grasping at nothing.  She sniffles, then scrapes her thumb over his roughened cheek.  “Let’s go.”


End file.
